“And if 2x2 is 4… how much is 2x3?”

Harry looked at his students with a gentle smile, adjusting his glasses as he pointed at the colorful multiplication chart he had drawn on the board himself.

Harry is a preschool general teacher. He graduated with honors in Education and started teaching in the same school he once studied at: Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School.

A sweet, well-mannered, caring, intelligent man. A man who loves children, loves his job, loves everyone who has supported him and surrounds him: friends, family.

A responsible man with a deep desire to share everything he has with kids: knowledge.

Every teacher respected him, while the parents of his students and former students adored him as both a person and a teacher because of how good and dedicated he was to his work.

His classes were always the best ones—awarded for activities inside and outside the curriculum, extracurricular events, everything. It was incredible how fast his students learned from the age of four.

For that reason, it wasn’t new at all that whenever a new student entered the school within the age range that Harry taught—once they passed the exam and demonstrated academic readiness—they were always placed in his class with the promise of growing academically and personally.

Like today:

“Mr. Styles, students.”

Principal Azoff stepped into the classroom, and behind him stood a little girl who looked nervous, her big eyes peeking from behind his legs, her long hair swaying, her uniform perfectly arranged.

The kids greeted the principal, standing up and then sitting down again as Mr. Azoff nodded slightly before turning to Harry.

“Professor, here I bring you a new student. Her name is Bella.” Jeff smiled at Bella and gave her a soft pat on the back to encourage her to meet her new teacher. Harry smiled, adjusting his glasses again. “She’s new, even though we’re halfway through the year, but her previous grades show she’ll have no trouble catching up.”

Harry smiled even more—the little girl looked sweet and tender, shy… something he could maybe help her outgrowing.

“Hi, Bella,” he greeted softly, crouching down to her height and offering his hand, which only made her hide more behind Jeff. “I’m your teacher, Mr. Styles,” he said warmly. “I’ll be with you for the rest of this school year and the next one, so we should try to be friends, alright?”

Because Harry always knew how to treat children… and always knew what was best for them.